


The Scene (or Park Jimin is a flapper and farm boy Kim Taehyung has a very chill sexuality awakening)

by victorli



Category: GOT7, The Great Gatsby (2013), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Historical, And thats meant in the most respectful way, Asexual Character, Drinking, Hes literally asexual and poly, Historical Inaccuracy, Lots of it, M/M, My favorite whore, Oh wow, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, but he likes to joke that hes a slut, oh yeah and Jungkook is a whore, tea and alcohol, thats a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 21:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17947721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorli/pseuds/victorli
Summary: Kim Taehyung just moved to the big city from his family's strawberry farm. He isn't a happy soul, finding himself lonely and looked down upon by the rich men he clerks for. It's not until he stumbles out of his apartment into the neighboring area that he finds a reason to live - a small man in a short dress.(This is my first fic. Be gentle with me.)





	The Scene (or Park Jimin is a flapper and farm boy Kim Taehyung has a very chill sexuality awakening)

As it turns out, strawberry fields and soft country breezes are much louder background noise than the horns of the big city. The sound of home, the sound of some place that has seen every moment that mattered, is an overwhelming symphony in comparison to the impersonal sounds of drunk strangers wandering around the streets and trains tooting horns in the distance. Somehow, the Irish farmer next door who called Taehyung “fairy boy” every day and the little girls who pulled at their eyes when he walked by were friendlier than the condescending smiles of the men he clerked for, or the shamefully lustful eyes of those same men’s wives.  
Suffice to say, Taehyung couldn’t sleep, and, as he swung his aching legs over the rail of the bed, he wondered if it was simply because there was none of him in this city. He didn’t have anyone to go to, anyone to call home, and if there was one thing Taehyung had always drawn from, it was the people who loved him. He knew his deadbeat job was killing him, he knew this tenement apartment was slowly closing in on him, he knew something would give soon. It was all a matter of time.  
With a long sigh, Taehyung pushed himself to standing. He went through the routine that usually occupied his 4:30-5:00 am block: popping his back in place, brushing his teeth with his finger and some toothpaste he had nabbed from a hotel he used to work at, and sliding into the same work suit he wore everyday without fail. At precisely 3:47 he was out the door, not even bothering to lock it behind him. There sure wasn’t a damned thing worth stealing in that prison cell.  
-  
Thanks to his long hours, Taehyung had never spent much time in his area before. Sure, he knew the saloons and bars his bosses would frequent as he was often called upon to fetch them home, but the secluded Koreatown was far from those ‘bright lights, big city’ clubs.  
As luck would have it, about five blocks away, the clerk found a bar. Speakeasy type of place, a bit seedy, but for a drink at this hour, Taehyung was ready to risk it all. Pulling his shoulders a little higher, he stepped in and immediately stopped short.  
The inside of the tavern was nothing like its barren front. The whole place was covered in beautiful oak planks, with yellow accents and soft mood lighting. It looked straight out of a cinematic feature. A romantic at heart, Tae fell in love with the place immediately, deciding if there were any place in the world he would find something worth anything, it would be here.  
Without looking, he hung his hat on a hook, shirked his winter coat (a big brown mess his mother had sewn for her ‘big city boy’), and floated over to the bar. The barkeep, a smaller man with cold, cold eyes, gave him a once over and then broke into a soft smile completely unbecoming of his intimidating aura.  
“‘Ello stranger. What’s a lonely soul like you drinking tonight?”  
“I trust you,” Taehyung murmured, finding that there really was no other way to answer a smile like that. “Taehyung Kim, clerk for some crackers on the East Side. Strangers don’t belong in a place like this my friend.” They both smiled, catching the irony of the situation, and the other man whirled around, grabbing three bottles off the shelves behind him.  
“Yoongi Min, bartender ‘ere at The Scene, built ‘er with me ‘usband.” Bartender -Yoongi- whirled around, clearly sizing up Taehyung’s reaction to that bit of information. When he found what he was looking for in Tae’s eyes, he turned back around, doing god knows what with god knows which bottle. “She’s a bi’ of a fixer upper, got ta get around ta those signs outside, but she’ll do. Lord knows we don’ get much action round here with the sor’ of thing the lads get up too, but we make ends meet.”  
Taehyung, mystified but appreciative of conversation going anywhere beyond “quicker next time please, Kim”, just hummed in agreement. When Yoongi plopped a soft purple slush in front of him, he raised the glass eagerly to his lips and shot half the cup down. “That’s incredible. What on earth did you put in there?”  
The other man seemed pleased, his cheeks ruddy as he grabbed a dirty glass, “Aww it ain’t nothin but a bi’ of gin and smoothie, thas’ all. Any keep worth ‘is salt can make tha’.” As he spoke the door swung open, a hunched figure in a large trench coat hurrying through the door. To an untrained eye the man would have appeared unremarkable, but to Taehyung, who spent hours cleaning and sorting his bosses clothing, the accessories were a dead give away. The gold buttons on the coat were to obviously real, the gloves a leather too stainless to be anything but new. And as the man approached the bar, Taehyung tensed and hunkered down over the drink that all of a sudden felt much too girl and unsophisticated to be drinking in the presence of someone of such status.  
Yoongi, in contrast, seemed to light up when the other man entered. “What’s the rub you fuckin’ skeaze?” he cried in delight, reaching over the bar to smack the other man with his dirty towel. Taehyung winced, fully prepared for this mystery man to snap at the keep, but instead he dissolved into a childish whimper. “Really?” he whined, rubbing at the spot Yoongi had hit, “this is how you treat your best friend? Yoongi, I thought we had something special!”  
Taehyung sunk into shock, mouth falling open as the strangers perfect face broke into an immature pout. Surely someone so refined, so poised, could never treat a common bartender as an equal. It was simply unheard of! But, well, it seemed this man was the unheard of kind.  
Yoongi opened his mouth to respond, the little “Don’t you-” snapping Taehyung out of his reverie, when he was interrupted by the door opening again. In stepped two more hooded figures -Tae was starting to see how this bar stayed open- and Yoongi snapped his mouth shut, eyes narrowing.  
All that melted away when the trench coats came off.  
As Taehyung gawked, Yoongi broke into the type of grin really only reserved for old fashioned love, and vaulted himself right over the bar and into the arms of one of the flappers in the doorway.  
But Tae wasn’t paying attention to the fancy dresser in the barkeep’s arms, disco balls in their eyes. He was entirely distracted by the newest face in the room.  
This uptowner, she had to be, was practically dripping in jewelry. (Taehyung couldn’t focus his eyes for long enough to decide whether it was real or not.) Her dress was beige, covered in chunky diamonds, and tied with a bow at the front that pulled the fabric to emphasize the curve of her hips. Blonde hair framed her face in the most recent bob trend, soft curls plastered to her cheeks with sweat, a look she somehow made a scene. Her hair was tucked under a band of matching jewelry, with a small ballet slipper charm hanging on a chain dangling from the side. Her earrings were little pearls, her shoes and stockings both a creme in color, and her aura was a pink pearl. She had the slightest of bags under her eyes, and it wasn’t until she collapsed into the chair beside him that he noticed she had moved at all.  
If he had been any lesser man, he would have whistled.  
But he was Kim Taehyung, clerk to the Robber Barons and Upper Crust. He knew better, knew that a lady of this background must be approached the same way one must approach lightning bugs on starry summer nights. So he dragged his gaze reluctantly down to his drink and returned his ears to the lively conversation around him.  
The other flapper (a friend of Yoongi’s? They seemed awfully touchy for a man with a husband) had entangled herself around the wealthy man and was playfully fixing her purple hat on his hair. (He still looked good. Prick.) They were discussing some recent party, one the girls had just come from, before Yoongi seemed to finally remember Taehyung.  
“A’right everyone! Forgot me manners. Kids, this is Taehyung. Taehyung these are the kids.” He raised his drink to Yoongi’s friends and pulled that winning smile that always had the bosses wives slipping him tips in hopes of something more. “Ladies. Gents,” he winked, raising his glass to them before fully turning in his stool. “Pleasure to meet you all.”  
The handsome stranger was the first to stop staring, reaching a hand out for Taehyung’s and shooting him his own moonlight smile; “Kim Seokjin, head of Kim, Kim, and Kim Banking on Wall Street and 5th. Pleasure to meet a fellow night dweller.” Then he turned abruptly to his own drink, seemingly uninterested after having given his introductions.  
The others however, were not so quickly bored. The flapper who had been all on Yoongi positively crawled over Jin’s lap, using it as a platform to push herself to sitting in front of Taehyung on the bar, grabbing his cheeks in both hands. “Gosh Yoongi, you like ‘em pretty,” she teased, turning Taehyung’s head this way and that to get a better look at him. “I like this one. Reminds me of Joonie back in the day. Can we keep ‘im?”  
Just as Taehyung’s eyes started to cross, the girl on his lap was lifted into the air. Tae felt his mouth fill with saliva when he realized that it was the last girl, the beige beauty (it would have to do till he could get a name), was holding the girl aloft with just one arm. He was sure there were stars in his eyes. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she delicately sat the purple hat woman, he didn’t know her name either, down. “Hoseok, that is no way to speak to a guest,” she chided, rounding back on the shell shocked boy to her front.  
“Hello stranger, you must be another one of Yoongi’s lost boys. He’s a right cockney Peter Pan.” She grinned, as if it was Taehyung and her’s private joke, and offered a white gloved hand. Clearly it was extended for a handshake, but Taehyung took his opportunity, and kissed it gently. “Park Jimin,” she said, speaking clearly through the red haze on her cheeks. “Welcome to The Scene.

**Author's Note:**

> So, idk if I'll have the motivation to make this go anywhere, but I would love and appreciate any feedback you can give me! I have no idea what the plotline is either, further than Jimin wears a lot of flapper dresses and is a sassy bitch and Tae is drooling so this should be quite the ride.


End file.
